


Of Any Other Name

by unorthodox_anthology



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternative Universe - Vampires, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unorthodox_anthology/pseuds/unorthodox_anthology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank giggled through a mouthful of egg. </p><p>“Did chu’ party a little to hardy, Gee?”</p><p>“Fuck you asswipe”, Gerard spits back, grinning past the lip of his mug.</p><p>(Or the one where Frank and Gerard are room mates, and Gerard is an amateur vampire newbie)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired, quite heavily, but this text post on tumblr ( http://harlequinnade1.tumblr.com/post/121273966761 ) 
> 
> Note: This is not my tumblr, or my text post. I have not participated to it in any way other than a note in the form of a reblog. I simply used it as inspiration and prompting.
> 
> No beta, written in maybe half an hour, only spell check.

Frank is frying facon with his eyes closed, the spatula resting limp in his grip. He swayed a little in his spot, jerking himself back into full wakefulness before he dropped any cooking instruments. Behind him, the toaster binged.

He’d just sat down, after pouring the cooked facon and one egg that had some survived the fridge onto the toast, when Gerard ambled into the kitchen. His hair was disgusting, all knarled at the back and something sticking it together in clumps. But his stupid fucking cherubic face lit up when he’d managed his way to the coffee machine, pouring himself a ridiculously generous cup.

Frank giggled through a mouthful of egg.

“Did chu’ party a little to hardy, Gee?”

“Fuck you asswipe”, Gerard spits back, grinning past the lip of his mug. He tipped his head back, the long, pale line of his throat bobbing as he drained the last of his coffee. Nudging the cup into the slimmest of spaces on the cluttered counter top, he pushed his hair back of his face and headed back out the door, feet skidding on top of the linoleum.

Frank looked away, hangover pounding in his head, and gut twisting, the dark purple bites on Gerard’s neck bright like a fucking beacon of what roommates should not want from other roommates.

~*~

“Gee I’m picking you up in an hour”, Frank says into his phone, scratching idly at something crusty on the arm of his sofa. His office space at the record label was pokey and cramped, but it was better than nothing. Outside his door, he could hear Ray shouting for him.

“But –“

“See you later”.

~*~

“Come on!” Frank squealed, drawing out the vowels as he tugged duvet off Gerard’s bed. Gerard made this weird hybrid groan giggle sound and struggled as Frank began to push him off the bed.

“Woah -no!” he shouted, reaching out and grabbing Frank by the shoulder in this liquid fast motion that Frank didn’t even see. He rolled Gerard back onto the bed.

“Come one, come on, come on!” Frank started pushing at the mattress, making it bounce. “Your promised Gee!”

“When I was drunk,” he mumbled into a pillow scrunched under his face.

“But those are the best promises!”

Gerard groans again, burrowing further into the pillow. His tshirt is rucking up on his hip, the elastic band of his sweat pants digging into the soft flesh. Frank swallows.

“Okay buttface, what’s the real reason you don’t wanna go _outside_ , to the _park_ , to play with _my mum’s dogs_ , where we may or may not end up meeting with _your_ _niece_?”

Gerard sighs and twists a little, one eye peeping out from under the cottony mass and dark hair. He murmurs something indistinct.

“What did you say?”

Gerard twists his body again.

“I don’t wanna get sun burnt”.

Frank’s palm strikes his forehead with a loud smack.

“Oh my god you big baby, I’ll stop at fucking Walmart and get you some SPF+ ten thousand if you’ll put some fucking jeans on so we can go”, he says, poking Gerard on the exposed skin at his hip with each word. Gerard squeaks again, but moves to get dressed.

~*~

Frank wakes up at some ungodly hour like six or something with the insane urge to pee. Moving so fast that he could out run an Olympian, he gets in front of the bowl and unleashes the monster inside his bladder.

Snorting to himself because he’s fucking hilarious, he shakes off and dunks his hands under the tap.

When he’s done, he closes the door and goes to head back to his room, but the light from the lounge is flickering like someone left the TV on overnight.

Turns out it’s not been left on over night – Gerard is curled up on the couch, swaddled in like four blankets and surrounded with used coffee mugs, staring attentively at the screen.

“Bro, have you stayed up all night?”

There’s a pause before Gerard’s head swivels in its socket, and he blinks owlishly at Frank before grinning. The light makes the shadows under his eyes look super creepy and gaunt, spooky as hell on his pixie face.

“Yeah”, he says, voice horse, and he swallows before he speaks again. “I just started his new show”.

“Cool”, Frank says, making his way over to Gerard and unfolding the blankets. Gerard hums, and opens his arms, like some blanket wizard cape, and folds them back around their huddling bodies.

“What’s it called?”

~*~

Cursing, Frank rips his fingers back out of the desk drawer before he checks it shut with his hip, sucking on the bruised skin. His phone starts vibrating in his pocket. Swearing again. He brings it up to his ear.

“Ha-woah?”, he mumbles into the speaker, fingers still in his mouth.

“Dude, can a mirror like, stop working?”

“Gerard?” Frank asks, letting his fingers slip free from his lips.

“Yeah, dude like-“

“No dude, they’re like, reflective of stuff, they don’t like, stop. What kinda question is that?”

“Coz I’m standing in front of the bathroom sink and I can’t see me?”

“Are you drunk?” Frank asks. It’s night, nearly seven, so it’s a possibility.

“No, but Lindsay came over with this really good weed and –“

“Are you like, 100% sure your not still high?” Frank stubs his toe on the desk leg and swears again, before giving up and grabbing the strap of his bag, heading for the door.

“No…”, Gerard says, drawing out the vowels like he’s unsure.

“Call me back when you’re super sure you’re not high anymore and the mirror still isn’t working. I’m going to the supermarket before I come home, any requests?” Frank waves goodbye to Ray, whose still at his desk, and steps out into the car park, heading fro his piece of shit car.

“Strawberry Pop-Tarts please. Oh, and I drank the last of the coffee, so we need some of that”.

“Fuck me”.

~*~

Frank walks into their apartment to see Gerard lying on the lounge floor, starfished limps and one hand on his stomach. His hair is fanned out around him and his shirt is buttoned up wonky. Frank gets that stupid Gerard-specific rush of heat in his chest.

“Help me out fucknut, food is heavy”, he groans, keys jingling form his hands as he manoeuvres into the kitchen, plonking the bags of food onto the semi-clean counter top.

Gerard jerks himself up from the ground and heads towards him, socks making little _slip_ _slip_ sounds as he moves.

“I have this weird craving, dude”, he says.

“Yeah, for what?”

“I dunno…maybe, pizza rolls?”, he says, scratching at his hair. It’s softer looking than normal, like he took a shower without being prompted to.

“Well I bought you your fucking Pop-Tarts so have those”.

~*~

Frank is chopping up some potatoes when Gerard walks into the kitchen and the knife slips, sliding neatly across Frank’s index finger. Blood starts to well up before the metallic pain kicks in. Frank jerks his hand away.

“Fuck!”

“Frank? You okay?” Gerard asks, hovering by the door. He looks super pale.

“I’m okay”, Frank hisses, turning the faucet on and shoving his hand under it. “Can you get me a band-aid or something?”

There’s a moment of silence, and Frank can only hear the running water and his own breathing.

“Gerard?” He twists to look at Gerard over his shoulder. He’s still standing in the doorway, but his whole demeanour has changed.

His head is tilted forward like’s trying to search out a scent, whole body leaning into the action. His hands are twitching by his sides, hair falling in front of his face. His breath is coming in ragged inhales. There’s an air of predator rolling off him. Frank’s breath is suddenly jerky.

Suddenly he’s right there in front of Frank, pulling out his wet hand from under the water. Frank’s just about to say something when Gerard sticks his bleeding finger into his mouth.

Frank squawks, arm jerking, but Gerard has an iron grip on his elbow all of a sudden, holding him in place. Frank feels his tongue, _fuck_ , Gerard’s _tongue_ , slippery and soft, sliding over his finger, running over the cut. And the he starts sucking.

Frank had never though that getting his finger sucked, much less a bleeding one, would be such a turn on, let alone a turn on for the other party involved. But as much as Frank is enjoying it, the soft pull on his skin, the swell of heat in his crotch, the weird throbbing in his fingers, like he’s being pulled in by Gerard’s mouth, there is not way that he’s enjoying it as much as Gerard.

Gerard is moaning, _moaning_ – gripping Frank harder, sliding his hand up to Frank’s shoulder and swallowing around Frank’s digit. His eyes are rolling back into his skull, eyelids fluttering madly, spit sliding down his chin, looking absolutely _wrecked_.

And suddenly, its over.

Gerard releases him with a popping sound, Frank jerking back against the counter top, but Gerard’s so close he doesn’t get very far. Ignoring the semi in his pants, he lifts his hand up to his face.

The cut is closed.

Frank can see a thin line where he had cut himself, but it’s tender and pink, like its healed already, only a few days old.

Frank glances up at Gerard’s face, and all the strange pieces fall into place.

“Open your mouth”.

Gerard licks his lips, fingers twitching and he parts his lips. Frank blinks.

“Fuck”, he murmurs, because its not like anything after the weirdly sexual finger sucking could be stranger. He lifts his hand and catches the skin of his neck with the tongue of the buckle on his watch. There’s a slight sting before Frank can feel blood pooling up under the cut.

Gerard closes his mouth, making slick swallowing sounds. He licks his lips, and Frank sees his eyes get blown wide like some insane high before Gerard launches himself across the small space, and latches his little teeth and soft, chapped lips around the cut and sucks.

~*~

Frank falls back, gasping at the celling. His not a view he’s familiar with, the ceiling here, given that’s he’s not in his room. Gerard is prone next to him, a vulnerable mass of skin and sheets, comfortable in his own bed. Because that’s where Frank is. In Gerard’s bed. Not his own.

It makes Frank laugh, quickly morphing into giggles, bordering hysterical. Gerard, splayed out on his stomach, looks up at him, eyebrows pinched.

“What?”

Frank calms down a bit, a few stray giggles escaping, before he manages to speak, post-orgasm glow making him all soft and giddy.

“Only you dude. Only you get turned into a vampire and you don’t realise for three days”. He starts giggling again.

Gerard smiles, and laughs too, falling down back into the sheets. He reaches out at splays his hand across Frank’s stomach, which does this swooping thing.

They’re silent for a few moments, before Gerard moves, lifting his whole body up and flopping back down real close to Frank’s face. His wide doe eyes blink at Frank, whose tilted his head on an angle to look down.

“Umm…” Frank hums.

“So like,” Gerard starts, warm breath fanning over Frank’s jaw. He can see his sharper teeth flash as he talks, making him shiver. “Um, that was like, okay? I didn’t like, I dunno…consensual?”, Gerard breaths, eyebrows pinched adorably in that concerned way of his. Frank smiles widely.

“This blood bag was totally consenting, Gee”.

“Good, okay, I just didn’t want to…wait, blood bag?” Gerard squeaks at the nickname, lifting himself up on his elbows to look down at Frank. “Like, you wanna do that again?” He can see Gerard’s eyes darken, catching on what must be a spectacular hickey on the side of Frank’s neck.

“Hmmm…yeah”, he drawls, rolling his hips up into Gerard’s thigh. Frank watches as Gerard inhales, eyes fluttering again, because, dude, he must be throwing off some sorta ‘fuck-me’ pheromone, that’s so cool.

Before Frank can voice that thought, Gerard brings his lips back down to Frank’s neck and starts nuzzling the bite mark, running his nose, then his lips over the tender flesh. Frank whines a little, and tilts his head.

“So do you wanna me my boyfriend-blood bag, or my fuck-buddy blood-bag? Because both would be cool”, Gerard whispers right into Frank’s ear, dark and warm and thick. Frank shivers and grips Gerard’s hips hard.

“Boyfriend”, he hisses when Gerard grinds down, feeling Gerard’s teeth press against his jaw, like he picked right.

“Good”, is all he says, before he sinks his teeth back into Frank’s neck, and starts to suck.


End file.
